


Half, Whole, Or Nothing At All

by sonicsora



Series: My Roots Run Deep Into The Hollow [2]
Category: Brütal Legend
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Coughing, Demon biology is weird, Demons, Demons Are Assholes, Eddie Riggs is genderfluid, F/F, F/M, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Graphic Description of Corpses, Identity Issues, Mild Blood, Post-Canon, Sick Character, Transformation, Vomiting, humans are assholes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2020-02-28 18:11:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18761719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonicsora/pseuds/sonicsora
Summary: It was just supposed to be a simple cold, but it became something so much worse. Something Eddie won't forget any time soon.It's something that makes him reconsider what it is to be human, what is is to be demon.





	1. You can't see beyond the veil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BrutalHearts666](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrutalHearts666/gifts).



> This has been kicking around the ole noggin for _awhile_. Blame Brutalhearts666 (meme emperor) who suggested I take a stab at this. 
> 
> WELP, this is definitely a stab.

He coughs into his hand, chest-rattling as he hunched into himself. Eddie struggles to catch his breath as the cough deepened. It feels like he’s going to cough up his guts at this rate. 

He sucks in another breath, relaxing marginally under Ophelia’s cool touch. Her voice adds to the comfort of her touch, a balm on the ache in his guts and lungs. “Breathe, Eddie, take a deep breath for me.” Her fingertips a cool against his forehead. 

“M’tryin’.” He grunts back weakly, eyes going half-lidded as her fingers coax through his hair. He sucks in breaths here and there with Ophelia keeping him steady. He follows her example breaths, which helps him a decent amount. 

Eventually, his breathing does settle back to normal. Eddie shifts a little so he can curl into Ophelia. The brunette has no qualms about holding him close, kissing his brow fondly. Her leg hooks around his as she drapes an arm over his side. At this point, just her cool presence is enough to help him start to slowly unwind. 

“Are you sure Kill Master can’t help with this?” She questions gently back, her expression pinched with worry. That expression is worse than all the coughs as far as Eddie is concerned. He didn’t want to make her worry, but, it was a little too late for that. 

“He already told me, not much he can do.” He grunted back, half ready to drowse again. He had only gotten worse after they had made a few trips between Bladehenge territory and demon territory. He was sick, but there were still humans to free from enslavement. His own needs could wait for a hot second. “Said it was just a shitty cold. So, I’m kinda on my own here.” 

“It’s more than ‘shitty’ if you ask me.” She mused with a faint snort, her hand drifts back to his forehead again. “You’re still burning up. This isn’t good and we both know it.” 

“I’m a hot commodity, what can I say? This man runs hot and heavy, babe.” He winked back at her, earning an eye roll in return from the brunette. Ophelia gently strokes her fingers along his cheeks, trying to help cool him off. 

“Alright, Mr. hot commodity, try to get some sleep.” She kissed his cheek once again. 

Ophelia didn’t sound completely happy, but knew arguing the point was useless in the moment. They had been spinning around the topic the entire week with little success. Eddie knew eventually he was going to have to give in and see Kill Master all over again, and he wasn’t looking forward to actually getting up. For now, he focused on cuddling close to Ophelia. “Mmkay.” He managed weakly, pressing close as he could get just trying to relax between coughing fits. 

Tomorrow he had to get his ass up and keep things moving. The rebellion couldn’t stop because he had some cold. 

\---

Okay, maybe the rebellion could stop because he had a cold. At least _his_ part in it. Ophelia had made that well known when he couldn’t stop coughing. She left him to bed rest and took over for him. 

It was nice, but also meant he was stuck in bed coughing his lungs off. He groaned a little curling into himself in a half sulk. He just wanted to curl up with Ophelia, but the decided lack of her was a sucker punch on top of everything else. 

The coughing only got worse as he gagged into his hand. “Fuck.” Eddie wasn’t sure if he should be glad Ophelia was gone or be panicky over the fact she wasn’t here. 

“Fuuck, fuck, fuck-“ He chanted lowly, trying not to vomit as he curled more tightly into himself. He had to admit Ophelia possibly had a point. Possibly, maybe, one hundred percent had a point this wasn’t a normal cold.

God, he was gonna have to grovel at Ophelia’s feet later wasn’t he? 

He’d accept a million ‘I told you so’s if he never had to vomit like this again. Eddie pressed a hand tightly against his mouth, wheezing unhappily as he finally rolled onto his side, forced into a seated position, which quickly became a staggering stand as he got up from the bed. He made it a few feet over to the bucket Ophelia had left behind for him. 

Only to oh so helpfully faceplant directly into the damn bucket, the only solace he had was the fact it wasn’t filled with puke already. Being drenched in old puke when trying to make new puke was not something he wanted to experience again. He been through enough tours to never want that in his life again. 

He yanked it off of his face with an angry hiss, just flopping back on his ass as he leaned heavily over the bucket expecting to just vomit and get it over with. The dry heaving started, but suddenly stopped short before he could get anything up. He wheezed lowly, squeezing his eyes shut for a long moment. 

He was going to consider that a positive, until his chest started to ache. The roadie groaned pressing a hand against his chest awkwardly. The other hand staying clutches at the bucket half afraid he was still going to puke. “If this is a heart attack, I give the fuck up.” He shot a dirty look upwards at the ceiling of his tent as if trying to squint at the Titans themselves. “Can’t I get a god damn break?” The silence that followed wasn’t unexpected, but it left the roadie sagging into himself, grip loosening on the bucket. 

He shuddered, going stiff where he’s seated on the floor of his tent as the pain his chest grows so much worse. He slapped his hand against his chest with a panicky sound. “FUCK!” What was a throbbing ache turns into a sharp bolt of pain settling over him. 

The bucket ends up flying out of his hand as he fumbles to grab at his chest, pressing both palms down firmly against his ribs. Eddie barely registers when he hits the ground, all he really can focus on is the intense pressure building under his ribs. He sucks in lungfuls of air desperately, heels digging into the ground as he thrashes. The pressure only grows worse as he struggles to breath. Any thought of doing much beyond pressing down on his chest drops out of Eddie’s head completely. 

All he can focus on is the pain hammering against the inside of his ribs. He digs his fingers into his chest, nails cutting into skin through his shirt. He hasn’t realized he’s shifted forms until his claws are pressing deeply down drawing blood into the surface that soaks through the fabric of his shirt. He’s just putting as much of his weight into holding down his own ribs even as it feels like something is pushing back.

His head tips back and he loses sight for a few moments beyond a few spots dancing across his vision. He chokes out Ophelia’s name with a keening whine before going entirely limp. 

The wet cracks that follow echo in the quiet of the tent, Eddie’s hands fall aside as he twitches and shivers in unconsciousness. Bone, skin and fabric are peeled away as something pushes its way out of Eddie’s chest. The roadie’s head lulls to the side, as something wetly pushes itself out of him. 

\---

His head feels like its stuffed with cotton when he wakes again. He groans lowly as he fumbles to press a hand against his forehead. His fingertips press flush against skin, the feeling of his claws don’t startle him in the moment as he distantly remembers shifting at some point into his demon form. “Hngh.” He has to wonder how much time has passed since he passed out. 

His hand drifts from his face to tentatively brush across his chest. As more memories settle back over him, panic lights in his gut as he sucks in a breath. “Oh fuck-“ 

The panic is only made worse when he feels how wet and tender the skin is. When he feels bone under his fingertips. His entire ribcage has been pushed apart, left open to the air. The sight leaves his gut churning. He can see his own heart beating wildly and it makes him choke. 

“Fuck fuck-“ He tries to sit up, realizing he’s too weak to manage much. He slides back onto the ground with a wet thump, pressing his hands against his ribs. 

“Is this a fucking demon thing? Please don’t be a demon thing.” He hissed lowly, gritting his teeth together as he scrambled to press his arms over his chest. The pressure of his own weight is enough to slowly push things back into place. He sinks back into the ground tiredly breathing heavily between his gritted teeth as he held his arm over his chest. He’s half afraid if he doesn’t hold himself everything will come falling out of his chest cavity. 

He wheezes lowly, eyes closing again as he shivers. “God, I gotta-“ He can only imagine how panicky Ophelia would be when she sees this mess. He keeps one arm wrapped tightly across his chest, pulling himself along the ground to try and get to the bed. 

He’s only a few feet from it before his energy gives out completely. 

When he snaps awake he realizes he’s still on the floor, at best an animal skin thrown over his body. He grunts weakly, vision swimming as he tries to move. Everything just hurts and he’s feeling weaker than he’d like. He can guess he's lost a few hours, maybe the day from passing out again. 

“If you start squirming around, you’re gonna probably die.” Hearing his own voice talking at him startles the roadie, he jerks in the direction of the voice. Seeing himself standing near the tent’s entrance feels like a sick joke. He lets the tent flap snap shut behind himself as he strides further inside. The Other Eddie grins a little, tucking a hand into his jean pockets oh so casually. His sneakers scuff against the animal hide carpet lain out. “You’re pretty injured, so, if you don’t wanna eat it, maybe cool it. Either way, doesn’t matter much to me.” 

“What the fuck.” He chokes out, blinking rapidly trying to clear his vision. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment with a pained sound. 

The dark haired man laughs a little, the sound familiar and wrong. “What? Never looked in a mirror ‘fore?” His gaze rakes across Eddie’s prone form. “Explains a lot actually.” 

“Who the fuck are you?” Eddie bites out in a breathy hiss, grip tightening on the animal hide draped over him. “What the fuck are you?” 

“Who the fuck do you think I am?” The Other Eddie stated with a grand roll of his eyes, walking over to nudge the fallen man with the toe of his sneakers. He rests his foot against Eddie’s side firmly, rolling the roadie onto his back roughly. “I’m you. Kinda obvious, dipshit.” 

“I’m hallucinatin’ and I hate this.” Eddie groaned aloud, head thunking back against the ground. He yelps when the kick lands hard enough to knock the air out of him. He flounders to try and strike back out at this- other him and misses as the muscular man takes a large step back.

“This help convince you how real this is?” He drops into a crouch. “Or should I give you a full on ass kicking, demon?” 

“Demon-“ Eddie sputters angrily, bristling openly now even if the movements make his chest thrum with pain. “You’re the demon! How the fuck are you real or here!?” 

The Other Eddie sighs at that, rising from his crouch to casually stride off to the side of the tent, plucking up a smoothed mirror by the trunk of clothing. He drops it in front of Eddie casually, uncaring of the crack that develops from the fall. The roadie squints at the bastard, fumbling to grab at the glass awkwardly. 

His hands settle on the edges and he feels like he’s been struck when he actually sees himself. 

A demonic face stares back at him. The roadie sucks in a short fearful breath as his grip tightens on the mirror.

His skin is still the same deep dark red, veiny and almost leathery textured. His golden eyes glow in the dim lighting inside of the tent. He realizes after a moment he has _more_ eyes dotting his forehead disappearing under his hair, all extra eyes which have seemingly stitched closed. The only other familiarity he sees in his own face his jawline and overly human nose amidst the demonic face. Horns jut awkwardly from his forehead, curving upwards past the top of his head, whilst smaller ones just from under his ears. White hair stood out as a shock against everything else. With his finger he traces the line of a seam that runs from under his nose through his mouth down past his chin disappearing from view where the animal hide lays over him. 

His hand shakes as he realizes this is very real. His pupils turn into slits as he grits his pointed teeth. 

“I-“ 

“Demon.” The Other Eddie states brightly quick to cut him off. He crouches down on level with Eddie, smirking at him cockily. “Unless you’ve gone blind from how butt ugly you are?” 

Eddie snarls, feeling the seam ripple and open. His body moves before his brain catches up with him as he smashes the mirror against his other self’s face. Hearing himself cry out is strange, even stranger when it turns to rage. Glass shards scatter across the tent, some cutting the other man’s face. The Other Eddie launches himself forward colliding with Eddie himself, the two tussling across the floor of the tent until they hit the edge of the fabric straining it. Eddie struggles to dig his heels into the dirt to try and keep some ground, realizing he has hooves as he flails uselessly. 

“I Don’t.Need.You.” Spits out the Other man, baring his teeth as he elbows Eddie in the ribs sharply. The demon cries out in pain, losing his grasp on the other man’s body. “Not any fucking more!” 

The fabric of the tent gives with their combined weight ripping and sending the two hurtling out into the grass as they wrestle. The commotion of it doesn’t go unnoticed as they roll down hill into the bottom of Bladehenge’s natural spring. Humans dart out of their way as panic erupts over the camp. 

He hits the water hard enough to cry out again, realizing the water is turning red under him. The chill of the water makes him realize he's simply clad in his tattered t-shirt and rough remains of pajama pants. The Other Eddie lands a few feet away hard enough he’s stunned for the moment. Humans rush over to him in a panic. 

He flounders to move with limbs and a body he’s not used to get up but finds himself too overwhelmed to get very far in the water. At best the overload of scents and sounds makes Eddie want to vomit. He starts to dry heave, clutching at his gut. Anything he even vaguely ate is rising to the surface and it tastes strange on his tongue. 

_Too many scents, too many sounds, too much, too much!_ He shakes his head sharply, sinking further into the water as he loses focus on where he is. Only the cold tip of a blade against his ribs jars him up into awareness. He rears back somewhat sending water splashing outwards. 

“Demon.” Lita all but hisses at him, eyes narrowed as she presses the halberd forward into the bone. 

“Lita.” He breathes out wetly, blood and bile dribbling down his chin. Disgust is clear on her face and it makes Eddie’s heart hurt. “Lita, its-“ 

“I do not know how you know my name, but I will not tolerate nor pity a demon when it invades my camp.” She spits back quick to cut him off. 

“The demon attacked me!” Other Eddie jumps in quickly, “Right in my own tent!” That sends a ripple through the crowd. Eddie can taste the anger and disgust in the air. 

“What do you want?” Lita’s weapon presses harder down on the bone and Eddie struggles not to claw out at her. Every instinct in his body screams to attack. Every instinct craves blood for this indignity. He sucks in a shuddering breath, clutching at his exposed ribs weakly. 

“I’m Eddie Riggs.” Eddie stated firmly back, “I dunno what happened-“ He coaxes a hand through his hair desperately, staining it red with his own blood. “But I’m me!” His words just earns disbelieving laughter from the crowd. All Eddie can do is tense up at the laughter, gritting his teeth in pained frustration. 

“Yeah, and what does that make me?” Other Eddie sneers back. “Last I checked there should only be one Eddie, right?” 

“We’re the same person, you fucking freak.” Eddie snarls out, “I dunno what the fuck is going on-“ The halberd is only pulled back to be swung and Eddie has to scramble out of the way. Lita just glares at him with enough hatred he can taste it in the back of his mouth. It tastes worse than the bile does. 

“I won’t hear any more of this, no more!” She takes another swing of her weapon, forcing Eddie onto his hooves. He feels unsteady and weak but manages to evade what blows he can. He has too many limbs and all of them feel wrong. Secondary arms drop from inside of him extending outwards as he defends himself. 

She draws blood with a few well placed stabs. He catches her next strike with a secondary arm more out of instinct than anything else as he shoves her roughly back into the crowd. Razor Girls haphazardly catch the blonde woman keeping her from falling as Eddie wheezes and hunches into himself. All four hands cover his face as he shivers. 

Where the fuck did he get extra arms? Why does he have extra arms? He forces himself back up into standing position as Lita launches herself forward from the crowd with an enraged scream. Others from Ironheade shout and call out as they join the fray. Extra hands mean he has an easier time deflecting blows that come at him, but not for long. 

Eddie knows he’s already winding down to something too tired to fight as he staggers out of the way of the next blow. He summons his wings knocking back some of the people trying to crowd him. 

Instinct screams out at him and, he listens, because he’s run out of anything else to do. He raises one of his arms into the air. He holds it upright, palm extended. People stare at him, jeering and laughing some starting to circle again. 

Only the ringing sound of metal and iron cutting through the air silences them. 

The heft of his axe haft finding its home with him is almost a relief. He tightens his grasp on the haft of his axe whipping around at the crowd with a roar that sends them skittering back. He opens his wings to their full size and throws himself into the air. 

He can distantly hear the panic amongst the crowd and talk of the axe. 

All Eddie cares about is flying, flying so far he can’t hear or smell them anymore. He hurts and all his instincts scream for is safety. He loses track of much else beyond the searing pain of his injuries as he flies. Right now he’s content to let instinct lead him to safety. 

When he lands he staggers under the Titans abandoned highway, scrambling into the darkest corner he can find to curl into a tight ball. He presses tightly against a wall until he’s cast completely in the darkness. He droops into himself wheezing softly. He only realizes he’s crying when the pain has subsided to some extent. He cries into his knees, letting himself weep for now.


	2. Underneath This Bleeding Moon

He knows logically he should get off his ass and go figure out what the hell is going on. He needs to know why and how all of this happened. What the fuck caused all of _this_ bullshit. 

Yet, logic doesn’t get him all that far. At best he’s moved around marginally in the corner he’s claimed under the highway. His body thrums with pain and its just easier to sleep than anything else. His mind bubbles with ideas for confrontation with this- other him, but it never gets far. His body is just too drained to let revenge stay on the forefront. 

When he does startle awake a few times he realizes the concrete pillars are layered with a fine layer of flesh and meat sacks. Eddie tries to reel back from it each time but ends up pressed against another layer of flesh. He can’t move very far to begin with, so he just finds himself pressing into new wet disgusting layers of things he doesn’t even want to think about. Eddie wants to be horrified, but instead just is too tired to muster anything but idle discomfort. 

By the time he wakes up again, he feels less terrible. He runs his hand along his chest to realize skin has grown back in place. The skin is soft and delicate, it aches under his touch. He figures its best he doesn’t mess with it too much.

He lets his hand drop away, just scrubbing his hands through his hair, likely streaking the white hair with blood and dirt. It was only fitting for… whatever he was. He sinks back into himself and just _sleeps_. 

His dreams are incoherent, sounds, tastes, scents that feel so real sometimes it makes his eyes crack open only discover he’s very much alone in the darkness. Through the fleshy pod forming around him, he can see the moon hanging in the sky through the cracks in the concrete. It glitters red against the dark sky, making the stars almost meaningless besides it. 

“Least, it's nice out tonight.” He slurs quietly to himself before dropping off again. 

\---

The brunette wrinkles her nose at the crackling of the radio. She paws at her hip half blind from the dust storm starting to kick up. She drags the hat further down her face to try and keep her eyes from getting battered with dust. She turns her back to the storm, letting the weight of her jacket do the job of keeping sand from kicking her ass. Her added gear ensured she wasn’t going to blow away with the storm. 

“Ophelia speaking, what’s up?” She half expected Mangus to be asking about something inane again. He had been anxious the entire trip and wasn’t getting any _less_ anxious. He was on the bus with the new Ironheade recruits but had yet to calm down about all of this. The demon lands were still untouched territory by human standards. 

The radio crackled with static before Lita’s voice could be heard. “Ophelia-“ The sound dropped into further static before picking up again. “Are- Done?” The brunette squinted at the walkie talkie in hand, pressing down on the button after a moment.

“Lita? Repeat that. I didn’t hear you.” She brought the walkie talkie up to her ear, waiting now as she stared out over the desert. She can pick out the familiar shape of the tour bus further off, past that is the remnants of the town demons had abandoned after Doviculus fall. “Lita, repeat.” She added again, hoping to get something back from the blonde woman. 

“Eddie- not sick.” Came through, followed by, “He’s acting strange.” Ophelia waited hoping Lita would elaborate further, frowning when nothing else came. The brunette has to wonder just what is happening back at Ironheade to earn a radio call. At best Lita had checked in twice over the past few days to gauge a head count, but not much else was discussed. 

“How strange?” She pulled her hat brim further down over her face as the wind kicked up more sand. The storm will start kicking up debris soon enough. The brunette forces herself forward making a beeline towards the tour bus. She’s going to need to take shelter soon. 

Lita’s words crackle and warp, so the start of her sentence is entirely gone. “-Break Down. Eddie-” That much leaves the brunette more than a little frustrated as she stomps forward. Being so far away from Ironheade means the walkie talkie connection is weak. The storm isn’t helping matters either. 

“Eddie’s having a break down-?” She pressed on, hoping to hear a bit more than she’s been getting. “Is he okay? What happened?” 

The static that kicks up instead of a reply makes Ophelia wince and pull the radio vaguely away from her ear. She groans in annoyance, rubbing her ear slowly before bringing it back to try and get some response. She holds down on the transmit button, speaking more loudly. “Lita? I didn’t hear you. Repeat!” 

There is a pause before Lita speaks again. “Not- sure, he’s acting strange. He’s acting off.” That is more of a sentence than she’s gotten so far. Ophelia hurries her pace, hoping drawing closer to the Tour Bus will make the connection vaguely better. Eddie had put in a better direct radio connection back to Bladehenge there before he got sick. 

“Acting off? How?” Ophelia presses as she brings the walkie talkie back up to her ear. The silence that follows doesn’t make the brunette feel any more comfortable. She hurries forward trying to push through the storm as it grows wise, boots kicking up more dirt in her wake. What’s left of the ghost town and the metal pens where humans were kept rattle and moan from the wind. She’s glad she’s getting closer and closer to the bus, even with the dust trying to blind her. 

Had something happened while she was gone? Worry gnaws at her as she kicks off into a full run. The sky is darkening overhead as the weather turns worse. “Can I not leave Eddie alone for a few days-?” She questioned aloud to herself. Her free hand flies up to grab at the brim of her hat again to hold onto it as the wind tries to rip it away from her. 

The lack of response makes Ophelia roughly clip the walkie talkie back to her jeans. She flicks her gaze upwards, eyes widening when she sees a glimmer of something in the air. 

“Damn it.” She swears hotly to herself as she drops to the ground, avoiding loose sheet metal that comes off of a roof nearby. It cuts through the air before smashing into the sand. The rattling crash makes Ophelia wince as she pounds forward, she’s so close to the bus now. Only a few more feet to go. 

Her gaze snaps back to her hip at the radio crackling again. She can’t even make out what is being said outside of static and the dragging of Lita’s voice over a terrible connection. 

“Aetulia’s tears-“ She bites out, “Now, why right now, Lita!?” She nearly loses her footing, one hand flying to her hip before she shakes the idea off to just keep her hands free. 

Her hands slide across the smooth surface of the bus, before finding the new handrails. A relieved exhale escapes her as she grabs onto the handrail with both hands, pressing into the side of the bus. She intends to just stay here until the storm passes over this part of the desert. As long as she presses against the side of the bus, she should be fine from any debris flying around.

The sound of the doors opening startles her, she nearly yells for Mangus to just close the door and let her ride this out, but her voice is lost in the swirling storm. Rough work worn hands grab onto her arms, hauling her towards the bus doors. What Ophelia can see of Val’s face past the camo printed bandana covering her nose and mouth looks close to a wince at the wild winds converging over them. 

“Get the hell in here, Ophelia!” Val barks at her, voice loud enough to overpower the storm. Ophelia only releases her hold on the handrails as Val bodily hauls her into the Tour Bus. The door snaps shut behind them as quickly as it can. The brunette loses her footing entirely without the pressure of the wind to contend with, stumbling out of Val’s arms and colliding with the wall near the drivers seat. Mangus grimaces on her behalf, turning in his seat as he looks at the two women. 

“Man, this weather is kinda freaky.” He manages after a moment as the blonde woman walks over to heft Ophelia back up onto her feet. Ophelia gives Val a tired nod of thanks as she tips her hat back. The lighting in the bus almost feels too bright now. 

“Freaky is one word for it.” Val grumps, pulling her bandana down now that the air was clear. “How can demons live like this?” 

Mangus shrugs from his seat. “Who knows, looks like they kinda can’t anymore.” Mangus wrinkles his nose a little, “I mean, why abandon a whole town outta nowhere?” 

“Demon orgy?” Val threw back dryly with an arch of her brows. Mangus laughs somewhat at that, “I guess? Still real gross, Val. ” 

Ophelia is content to listen to the conversation pass over her as she takes off her hat and bandana. She drops it off to the side as she staggers towards the passengers seat to flop into. She slumps into the seat with a loud exhale, “Lets- not think about demon orgies right now.” 

“What, can’t handle a little demon dick?” Val throws back at Ophelia with a smirk. Mangus sticks his tongue in disgust. Ophelia just kicks her boot off at the other woman without breaking eye contact. The blonde catches the boot, waggling it back at Ophelia teasingly. “What got you so down in the dumps? Sides the storm anyway.”

“Lita called over walkie.” Ophelia stated, gaze dropping the radio clipped to her hip. “I couldn’t make out much of what she was saying. I lost connection as the storm started getting worse.” 

“When boss lady calls unexpectedly, that’s not a great sign.” Val muttered, expression growing serious as she took a step forward, leaning against Ophelia’s seat. 

“Lets see if we can call her back.” Mangus turns back around in his seat to look over the Tour Bus console. He reaches out to flip a few switches, unfolding the radio antenna built into the middle of the console. 

“In this storm, we’ll be lucky if we get anything.” Val stated, shaking hair out of her eyes. “Did you get anything from the call-?”

The brunette runs her hand through her hair tiredly. She shifts in her seat to peer at Val. “Something about Eddie? A break down? He’s having a break down?”

The two other Ironheade warriors groan at that. Mangus covers his face with his hands as Val slumps heavily into the back of the passenger seat. 

Ophelia looks rapidly between the two, brows raising up in confusion. “What-?” 

“I really hope you misheard that.” Val states slowly, “Cause Eddie having an emotional break down is kinda the worst thing.” She scrubs at her face with a hand, “I dunno how much you heard, but… it was bad.” 

“It was… when y’know,” Mangus started awkwardly, waving a hand uncertainly. He clearly wasn’t fully sure how to delicately put things. “When you were ‘gone’. He had a big emotional break down, nobody could get through to him. Eddie had some really weird ideas and kept getting mad if you questioned him.” He settled his hands back on the console for a moment before continuing to fiddle with the walkie talkie station.

“We only recruited the Zaulia because Eddie tried to steal a bunch of cats.” Val groused loudly. “Who does that!?” 

“I hope he hasn’t tried like… recruiting seagulls.” Mangus murmured more to himself as he turned a few dials. He flicked the antenna with his finger experimentally. After a moment the familiar sound of static filled the air. With that much progress made, Mangus leans in to toy with tuning the radio properly. 

“We’ve been gone about four days, how is he having a break down-?” Ophelia questioned after a moment, her gaze drifting from what Mangus was doing back to Val. The blonde woman simply shrugs in turn. “Dunno, he’s _your_ problem, Ophelia.” 

Ophelia shot the blonde woman an annoyed look. “Wow, _thanks_ , Val.” 

Val shrugs casually, “Ey, just telling it like it is. You should have picked someone a little less complicated.” She flicks hair out of her eyes as she adds, “The hell is he freaking out over anyway? Not like he’s doing anything right now besides laying on his ass. We’re the ones out here rescuing people.” Ophelia narrows her eyes and opens her mouth to reply when the static clears up. “Looks like the storms finally passing enough we can call.” Mangus pipes up, sounding relieved to interrupt the argument and get the radio working. 

Ophelia turns away from Val, not before shooting the other woman a side long glance. Val arches her brows back up unimpressed. Ophelia grabs the radio built into the dashboard of the tour bus, bringing it up to her mouth to speak into it. “Ironheade, Ironheade, please report.” Ophelia chews on her bottom lip idly as she waits. 

“Ironheade reporting back. Lift Op King speaking!” Jack’s voice is bright and cheery even amongst the crackling of the radio waves. “Tour Bus, how’s it going?” 

Ophelia gives a faint snort at the response. “Rescued 40 more, should be making headway back to Bladehenge in a weeks time.” She scrubs at her face with her free hand. “Is Lita there? She called earlier and I couldn’t make out what she was saying.” 

“I’ll get the Queen Bee for you!” Eddie had explained radio nicknames when he was putting the system up originally, and predictably anyone on radio duty got a bit excited to make up their own names. Ophelia for her part always forgets her own nickname, more focused on actually calling in than throwing around banter. 

Lita’s voice is almost a relief to hear crackle to life on the radio, “Lita speaking. Is this Ophelia?” 

Ophelia gave a relieved exhale before pressing the transmit button, “Yes, I couldn’t hear you when you called. What’s going on?” 

There was a pause, a worrying kind of pause before Lita spoke again. “Eddie is acting… off.” Clearly the blonde had no idea where to start. “You weren’t here when it happened, but he is acting like he’s having some kind of break down. It’s worrying.” 

“Explain.” Ophelia offers, cutting to the point. “I need more details than that, Lita.” 

“A demon had snuck into camp at some point. I’m not sure when, but it attacked Eddie. He has been acting off since then. I’m worried he’s been stung with demon venom or- it said something that _did_ something to him.” That bit of news earns a startled sound from Mangus, and a sharp intake of breath from Val. “I take back all my shit talk, fuck. A demon!?” She hisses lowly, standing up straight now.

Ophelia doesn’t even realize her grasp on the radio has tightened until she tries to press down on the button. “A demon? A nun-? A warfather-?” She’s trying to figure out _how_ a demon could sneak into Ironheade, much less Eddie’s tent undetected. 

“No, no- it, none of us know what it is.” Lita’s voice is clear and firm, Ophelia can almost picture her expression. “It had wings- similar to Eddie’s, to Doviculus’, it could be a new emperor…” 

“Fuuuuck.” Val groaned. Ophelia swatted at the other woman for silence, giving her a long look. She speaks clearly into the radio, hopeful for some information. “Speculating over that won’t help. Please, just tell me about Eddie.” 

\----

_Clawed fingertips trail across bare skin. All Eddie can do is grit his teeth. Doviculus is warm against his back and Eddie feels sick to his stomach. He feels disoriented and confused, unsure where exactly they are, much less why Doviculus stands at his back, so close and too familiar._

_"Did I say you could touch me?" A voice not his own comes from his mouth, body turning without his input. A woman's husky voice. Eddie realizes after a moment, this is not his own body, new or old. This body stands much taller than he is, wider with more defined muscles. A demon's body only partially bound. A rough approximation of a corset binds her chest together. She towers over Doviculus so easily it almost makes him look like a child in contrast to him._

_"How could I resist?" Doviculus laughs lowly, his smile is smug and wide. The smug smile doesn't last long as the larger clawed hand flicks out to smack Doviculus soundly across the face. The horned demon rears back almost fearfully when this body raises her fist again._

_"You best resist, or I'll wear your skin as a gown." Spits the voice, anger bubbling clearly to the surface. Her patience has thinned and Eddie can almost taste the contempt for Doviculus._

_"Of course, Succoria." Doviculus recoils when she laughs._

_"That's Emperor to you, you ugly creature."_

_Succoria._

_Succoria._

_Succoria._

_He walks with his mother. He walks with a woman he will never know._

_She flicks her hair out of her eyes before turning her back to Doviculus. "Be gone, you beastly thing. I have duties to attend to." Doviculus hesitates before taking his dismissal without any further words. Succoria drifts through a room tiled of old stone and glass, catching her reflection in the glass and startling._

_Eddie can see himself and her. He stands as his human self behind her. Succoria looks similar to him, yet not, her grand horns curve around her head, pointed ears poke from the sides of head, many eyes stare back at him in surprise. Doviculus had been right, they had the same eye color._

_"And what- is this-?" She reaches a hand out to the glass. Her claws tap against the glass and he can feel it radiate through him down to his very bones._

Eddie startles awake, his breath catching in his throat as he hunches against the cool surface of the concrete pillar. Well, what he can feel of it through the skin still clinging to the walls around him. 

He wonders if he's still dreaming when he sees he is familiar to Succoria. The skin on his chest has grown in completely now. He realizes a bit dully beyond the raggedy edges of his old shirt are breasts. The skin is still tender and growing, he can see the raw edges where flesh is mending over. That much keeps him from poking at the new additions. 

"Huh." He stares a bit at loss. 

Somehow, it feels... 

Right. 

\---

She leaps out of the druid plow with a shout, misjudging her jump badly enough she’s hit the ground hard enough to knock the air out of her lungs. She’s stunned only for a moment before she’s forcing herself up onto her feet. Ophelia still keeps moving, even as her body protests. She can’t slow down now, she can’t stop. 

Her body protests even worse when she lands heavily on a demon, her arms thrown around its neck as she sends both of them tumbling into the loose sand. If not for the bandana and goggles she wore, she’d be coughing up sand and lose her hold entirely. 

The Warfather sputters loudly about the indignity of it all, thrashing under her as she swings her fist downwards into its face. It is almost gratifying to see she broke off one of the things teeth even if it cuts her knuckles to shreds. She repeats the punch, enjoying the gush of blood that comes from this strike. The Warfather predictably does not enjoy a single thing and shrieks at her. 

She digs her hands into the demon’s collar, hefting it up to meet her eyes. “Tell me what you know.” Her voice comes out muffled, but the affect of it makes the Warfather’s strange eyes dart around awkwardly for anywhere else to look. She presses her knee more firmly into the demon’s gut, the creature under her makes a pained sound. “Do you have a new emperor? What is your emperor planning?” 

The Warfather glowers at her, the best he can given his uneven eyes that can’t seem to focus on one thing in particular. “I will not tell you a thing, you filthy wretch.” His blood is warm against her skin and it just makes Ophelia angrier in a way she can’t really understand. The demons just couldn’t leave Eddie alone, they couldn’t just fuck off- 

Her teeth snap together as she feels herself go cold. So undeniably cold she wonders if she could drown him from thought alone.

Ophelia grinds her knee into the demon’s gut, smirking under her bandana as he gives a pained sound. Her voice is so quiet it could be lost in the shifts of the sands. “You should start telling me what I want to hear. I don’t have much patience.” The fact she might’ve crashed Eddie’s car only makes it mildly worse. 

When Eddie isn’t possibly in danger, she’ll apologize about it. For now, she has more pressing matters at hand. She has a demon to crush under her heel. To make cry out before her. She needs answers. She'll get them any way possible. 

The Warfather simply glowers at her, seemingly unbothered by her threats. Though she can see the anxious edge to the way he holds himself under her.

Her hand drifts downwards, pressing her fingers near the demon’s eye, “I’m sure you like seeing, so- why don’t you tell me?” She brushes her thumb across the demon’s eye in another warning. The pad of her thumb presses against the edge of the socket and the demon's breath shudders in its chest.


	3. Conflicted by your hurt

“Look.” Val’s voice cut through the silence hanging around them. “It could be worse.” Ophelia finds her gaze drifting back to the blonde woman. The camo-clad woman rubs at the back of her neck awkwardly as she steps off of the bus before walking forward to where Ophelia stands by the demonic village entrance. They had driven far and long enough the last abandoned half rotted village was a mere memory at this point. This new one had almost gone unnoticed if not for its metal gates and the odd shape that sat before it.

The grand metal gates marking the village had been warped on its hinges, any metal still standing had been partially buried in the shifting sands. Bodies had been stacked or outright thrown into what could be considered a pile. What had been a strange shape in the distance had become so much clearer once they parked to investigate. 

“The corpses aren’t all _that_ fresh.” She finishes as she comes to a stop next to the brunette. 

“That’s not even the _least_ comforting sentence you’ve ever said.” Mangus comments uncertainly from the bus doorway, less than inclined to leave the safety of the bus. 

“She has a point.” Ophelia sighs aloud, crouching down to investigate the dried human body laid before her. One of many bodies left out, but it was further away from the stack. The mixture of time and the desert climate means the body looks like tanned hide more than a person at this point. Hair had fallen out in clumps, a few loose teeth were in the sand. Scavengers had clearly been picking at what they could. “They’re hardly fresh. The sun did this to them.” 

“I’m gonna go back into the bus and never leave it.” Mangus stated after a moment, squinting out at the two women. His voice goes into a higher pitch as he ducks further back into the bus. “I’m never ever going into the sun again.” 

“You can stay on the bus Mangus.” Ophelia sighed back as she rose from her crouch, dusting off her hands on her jeans. She turned to look back at the Tour Bus driver, resting a hand against her hip as she spoke. “I’d rather you be there anyway, it is much safer.” 

“Yeah, wouldn’t wanna see you turn this leathery if you took even one step off the bus.” Val dryly stated back with a roll of her eyes. “Your delicate complexion couldn’t handle it.” 

“Y-yeah! My delicate complexion!” Mangus spared the sky an anxious look shrinking further back from the doorway. 

Ophelia dusted herself off as she adjusted the bandana back over her mouth. Her words come out a little muffled through the patterned fabric. “ Mangus, stay put. I’m going in with a few Razor Girls to sweep the area.” 

“Doubt there is much left here.” Val grumbles, hefting her razor boar bow from it’s resting position against her back into her arms. “Place looks like dead central.” 

“I’d rather check than be surprised.” Ophelia stated with a shake of her head. The brunette turns back to the bus to meet Mangus eyes, at this point he was still hanging back in the buses doorway. “Round up a troop of Razor Girls for me.” 

“Can do, boss lady!” He snaps off a salute before disappearing back into the bus completely. Ophelia can guess he’s relieved to not be involved in a reconnaissance mission. Beyond driving and switchboard operating he isn’t really one for action. 

“Want me along for this ride?” Val questioned with a quirk of her brow, “I’m armed and raring to go.” She raised her weapon for further confirmation, which earned a low laugh from the brunette. 

“While It’d be nice to have you, I need someone to stay with Mangus and keep him calm.” She taps at the walkie talkie hanging from her hip. “I’ll have the radio on me. So I’ll call you guys.”

Val gives a disappointed grunt at having to stay behind, but doesn’t argue the point. The blonde hefts her gun back in place on her back without much commentary. 

Ophelia looks back to the body pile with a wince. "Can you mobilize a few people to get a mass grave dug?"

Val flicks her own gaze to the bodies at Ophelia's question, "Yeah, we'll get that going." She rests a hand against her hip, "We can't just leave 'em out here." The two women look over the bodies for a moment longer before the bus' door slides open. Mangus has rounded up the girls apparently.

Val steps out of the way of the bus’ doorway, barely sparing it a glance as a few women started streaming out of the doorway. The women are all excitedly conversing as they group up around the front of the bus. 

"We gonna go kick some demon ass?" A Razor Girl questions with a grin, "Cause I'm ready." 

"I can't promise we'll see any demons, but we'll be ready for anything," Ophelia states easily, her smile hidden under the bandana over her mouth. She motions for the women to follow her. "Mind your steps, ladies." She guides them around the corpse pile into the abandoned city. Beyond the gates lay half-demolished buildings that nature has swallowed back up, rotted metal cages and dried wells. 

\-----

Some of the quietest hours of Bladehenge lay between shifts in the early morning. When those just coming back settled into their tents to rest for the next few hours. When there was no one else out and about due to the hazy time between night and day. 

It was one of the many things Lita could rely on, the few times she woke up before the sun had risen, she could hear the distant shuffling of people either settling back down or making their way to the porta-potties tucked into the corner of the camp. She knew the schedule by now, she found comfort in the silence. 

She grunted sleepily burying her face in her pillow on the edge of dropping back to sleep when a loud clatter in the distance startled her from a doze to fully awake. The blonde woman sat up quickly, blindly grabbing for her halberd out of instinct. She yanked a shirt on quickly, letting it hang loosely over her body as she peered out of her tent. Her grip on the tent’s flap tightened into a white knuckled grip as she surveyed what she could see of the camp. The few fires still going offer little illumination beyond their immediate area. 

The lack of anything made the Queen of Bladehenge pause for a long moment. Maybe someone had fallen into the toilets again-? It wouldn’t be the first or last time. Maybe someone had knocked over something a few tents over? 

She chewed at her bottom lip uncertainly. Indecisiveness holding her in place for a long moment until tension dropped out of her shoulders. The blonde exhales tiredly, rubbing at her face with her free hand. 

“I must be imaging things.” She murmured lowly. She releases her hold on the tent flap letting it fall closed. She walks back towards her bed intending to just collapse into the fur pile and forget about the sound entirely. She sets her halberd aside casually, yawning as she stretches. 

The crash that soon cut through the silence killed any inclination to forget entirely for Lita. The next crash only makes her movements more hurried. The blonde whipped around, grabbing at her halberd before darting out of her tent. She’s hardly the only one to hear the sound given the lights flicking on in tents and a few people peeking out at her. A few headbangers stumble out of their homes, as do Razor Girls, all blearily staring out at the darkness. 

“Who goes there!?” She all but shouts, voice rough from sleep. She brandishes her halberd in the direction of the noise. 

“Everything isss fiiineeee!” Eddie’s voice calling out saps any tension out of the people who’ve left their tents. He pops up near a fire pit, finger gunning aggressively at them. She can barely make him out from the glow of the fire behind him. “Just fine!” Lita exhales in annoyance covering her face with a hand, leaning her weight into her halberd’s staff. 

A Headbanger grunts from behind Lita. “…Dude, you’re like on fire?” Her gaze snaps up in a panic as Eddie laughs awkwardly patting himself out. The back of his jeans and vest where in fact starting to catch fire. 

“Ow-Ow, haha, ITS FINE!” He insists as he continues patting at himself a little desperately. “Fuck, fuuuuck, haha ITS FINE!” He repeated whilst starting to slap his leg with his bare hands. The nearest Razor Girl disappears into her tent before reappearing with a pitcher, pouring water on Eddie quickly. Another Headbanger was quick to douse Eddie as well with the remnants of what looked like stew from a bowl he had in his own tent. 

The roadie groaned at that, shaking his leg off, he shot the headbanger a dirty look. “Stew!? C’mon, man!”

“You were on fire, bro, chill out.” The Headbanger groused back, waving the empty bowl back at Eddie. “What the hell.” 

“Eddie.” Lita started slowly, trying to keep her voice level. “Can you come with me to my tent. We should look over your injuries.” She flicks her gaze at the bleary eyed people around them, “Go back to bed.” 

That was as much as any of the small crowd needed to shuffle back into their tents. Lita could hear a few complaints, but knew later on they’d be worried about Eddie. Given his sporadic behavior within the last couple days, this was just another worrying sign something was wrong. 

The roadie whined a little but ambled over, limping only vaguely. “I’m fiiinnneee Lita!” 

“You were on fire. It is nearly hour of the Aetulia.” She flicked her gaze at the sky to confirm her thoughts, “Get in my tent before I physically drag you there.” She just stared at him until he limped his way to her tent. Once the flap was closed she just stared at the sky again, wondering why the Titans were testing them like this. 

She turned away from staring at the sky to walk into her own tent, resisting sighing at the sight of Eddie picking through her things. She had no idea why he was acting like this and that much was worrying. 

“Eddie.” He fumbled at the sound of her voice with what he was holding in his hands before carefully setting the jewelry back on the dresser. Lita continued pretending she hadn’t seen him rifling through her jewelry. “Take your pants off.” 

The roadie grinned at that, he placed a hand against his chest waggling his shoulders in a strange undulation Lita assumed was… ‘sexy’? She wasn’t entirely sure. “Leets, are you seducing me-?” He joked a bit too loudly making her suck a breath in-between her teeth. 

“Don’t you know, I’m a taken maaaan!” He all but loudly belted that back at her making Lita want to just tell him to fuck off to Kill Master’s mountain. All she wanted to do was sleep. The fact he’s her friend and possibly injured is what keeps her from slapping him. 

“Eddie.” She stated slowly, her patience waining by the minute. “Take off your pants so I can be sure you aren’t hurt.” 

“I’m fine though, really!” He pauses for only a beat, seeming unable to settle on a thought, “But if you want to check, sure I guess! Whatever!” He kicked off his shoes haphazardly sending them flying across the tent and colliding with the table in the farthest corner. His socks smack against the wall of her tent in a particularly wet plop that makes her wonder what the hell he’s been doing. His sticky wet pants end up thrown onto the top of her dresser, just sending her jewelry and trinkets to the ground. He throws himself on the bed, kicking a leg out dramatically in the air. 

“Do your worst, My queen!” He waggles his eyebrows intensely. 

She set aside her halberd carefully, moving to turn on the low burning lantern hung near her bed. She close the distance between them to grab at his ankle roughly and force him to lay on his stomach. “Be still.” Eddie squawks in protest, but is forced to lay still as she lets her hands go over his leg. She winces openly at the light burns present. Some of the jean fabric had burned into the skin at this point. It was going to have to be cleaned. She goes over both his bare legs, at least vaguely relieved to see only one is really hurt. 

“What is going on with you?” Finally comes out of her mouth. She glowers at the back of his head, worry settles over her making her more awake than she wanted to be. “You- is something going on?” 

Eddie tries to speak, half muffled by his own hair and position he’s stuck in. “Nope! I feel right as rain! Never better!” He’s speaking quickly making it harder for her to understand him. 

“You’ve been acting… off for several days. This isn’t normal.” She states simply, releasing him to move over to grab the medical kit she had tucked off to the side. It isn’t bass strings, but it’ll do in a pinch. “Eddie, are you okay?” 

“This is me at my peak, Leets.” He stated brightly back, propping his chin up as he flicked his leg up into a lazy sway. It clearly was hurting him, but he kept swinging it back and forth. “I’ve finally hit my best self!”

Lita just squinted at the roadie for a moment, picking up her kit and stalking back over to the bed. “Eddie, this is- not you.” Eddie had only acted this way when he realized Ophelia had her own army. The blonde chews at her bottom lip for a moment, her voice dropping into a softer tone. “What is going on? I’ve been worried about you.” She places the kit on the bed, popping it open. She waits for Eddie to speak, hoping he would open up. 

“Besides the burns? Not much, so you shouldn’t worry about little ole me!” The roadie said brightly back. “Worryin’ will probably just give you grey hairs, by this point I should have a ton of them, so I’m just not worryin’ again!” He babbled idly back, distracted by a stray line of thought. His gaze is darting everywhere but at her as he chatters. “Not that I’m sayin’ your grey of course, your hair looks great! Very blonde! You’re the blondest blonde I’ve ever met!” 

Lita sucked in another slow breath, wondering what could possibly be going through his head. He swore to her he’d talk with her if he needed help, if something was wrong he was supposed to talk to her, yet here he was just avoiding everything. “Eddie…” 

“Sorry if I sounded like I called you old, not my intention! Totally just given up worrying though!” 

Lita grabbed onto his ankle again, forcing his leg back down. Eddie apparently seems to understand the gesture keeping his leg flat as she releases her hold on his ankle. 

She pulls out a small jar from inside the kit, yanking the corked lid off of it. Lita smears the balm carefully onto her fingertips before moving to rub the sickly sweet scented slurry over the burned patches of skin. It wasn’t as quick as the healing magic ever would be, but it would seal everything from infection. Tomorrow she could take him to Kill Master to get things properly healed. 

The roadie jerks at the sting of the balm, squirming more under her hand. He whined back at her, complaining loudly about how much it hurt. 

“Be still!” She snaps out irritably, annoyed at the denial on Eddie’s part when something was clearly wrong. The fact he was just avoiding the question did little to temper her anger any. “If you’re not going to talk to me, at least do me the courtesy of being still.” 

“But I’m talking! Can’t you hear me talk!?” He tried to flip over, only to be stilled when Lita slapped his thigh in open frustration. “You’re talking, but nothing of value is coming out of your mouth. Save your words for when you mean them.” 

“I mean everything I say! I’m just saying-“ 

“Nothing of value.” She’s quick to cut him off. She settles the bottle back into the kit after resealing it. She scrounges around, wishing she had turned on both lantern before pulling out the woven bandages. The woven mixture of fabric and leaves had held up fairly well given she and Lars had spent time making a year or more back. For times when they couldn’t leave camp to ask for aid. She pulls the fabric taunt, moving to place it against the burns. She rips it cleanly as she can given her lack of coordination given the hour. 

Eddie for his part stops whining and has gone relatively still. Lita almost wonders if he’s actually feeling guilty for avoiding the topic or simply finally tired enough to stop squirming around. She focuses on securing the bandages in place with careful touches before stepping back. 

“There.” She snaps the medical kit closed, the old wooden box creaking as she picks it up and carries it back to where she likes to keep it. Eddie grumbles at her rolling onto his back. He had fallen into what Lita could guess was a full sulk. 

“Given your pants are burnt and covered in stew it would likely be better if you just stayed here for now.” 

“No-“ He was winding up to ramble again, she could see it in his defiant face. She did not want to hear it. She had heard enough of this tonight. 

“I will punch you in the dick if you try to get out of bed.” She cut in firmly, cracking her knuckles for emphasis. 

Eddie opened and closed his mouth awkwardly. “Mmmmkay.” His eyes darted around the room, seeming to vaguely contemplate escape. Lita rolled her eyes at how easy he was to read. “I mean it, Eddie.” 

“I know, I know, god!” 

Lita stared at him for a very long moment before moving to turn off the lantern. Once the tent was back in the comfortable darkness she found herself starting to yawn somewhat. She had to smile at the sound of Eddie yawning as well. 

She walked around to the other side of her bed, flopping onto it lazily. She grabbed at her pillow blindly before settling down. She could make out Eddie’s shape in the darkness. “Sleep.” 

“Or what you’ll punch my dick?” Eddie questioned back, she couldn’t see the pout but she could hear it in his voice. She was glad sulking was happening instead of manic avoidance. 

“Yes.” 

Eddie gave a lazy harrumph before turning on his side. He squirmed under the covers, pressing his face against her extra pillow. Lita simply rolled her eyes, mostly intent to doze after she made sure Eddie didn’t run off again. She focuses on staring up at the ceiling of her tent, just listening to the silence settle back over the campsite. There was the rustling of animals in tall grasses, shifting of people moving in their tents, the cry of birds in the distance. 

Lita was a little surprised to hear Eddie drop off to sleep within a few moments. She would have to ask him what he was doing in the middle of the damn night tomorrow. She lets the thought drop away entirely as she starts to doze. She drifts in and out, still awakening on occasion from the sound of Eddie’s breathing. Sharing a tent, much less a bed with anyone was odd. She hadn’t done so since she and Lars were children. 

At some point Eddie curls against her in his sleep, Lita laughs lowly draping an arm around him. The laugh is tired and tinged with fondness. 

They'll figure this out tomorrow.

\---

“Sure its wise to head back in there on your own?” 

Ophelia wipes her brow with the back of her hand, flicking her gaze back up at Val. “Not particularly, but, there are smaller corners I want to pick through.” She shrugs a poncho on, the loose fabric over her added gear giving her further protection from the elements. The weighted edges of the fabric won’t kick up in the wind if another storm comes to pass. She grabs her hat, placing it upon her head as she grabs at her bandana to place over her mouth and nose. 

“Gonna take Eddie’s ride-?” Val leans back in the bus’ driver seat, kicking her legs up casually across the console. Mangus will be on her about it later, that much Ophelia already knows. 

“Better than just walking.” Ophelia muses, she grabs the keys for the druid plow from the hook on the wall in the drivers compartment. She jingles the keys idly, “I won’t be long.” 

“Gonna take the walkie-?” 

“Yeah, better than going out there blind.” The brunette agrees with a huff. She adjusts her bandana to be sure it stays in place before moving to the doorway. “Tell Mangus I’ll be back.” 

Val offers a casual grunt back. Ophelia doesn’t look back as she steps out into the desert landscape. The air was still chilly in the early morning, which meant she wasn’t going to be sweating too badly just yet. She flicks the brim of her hat up somewhat to peer at the sky, able to pick out distance clouds in the horizon. A storm would likely hit them by mid-afternoon. 

She walks around the bus to where she left the Druid Plow parked. She jumps over the drivers side door, settling down into the seat before buckling up. Ophelia opens up the dashboard to pluck her goggles from within, after some brief finagling she has them on over her eyes. She starts up the car with little trouble, driving forward around the bus and over the empty space where the bodies had once been. She passes through the rotted gates with no trouble. 

Ophelia at least knows her way through the village to some extent. There were a few older buildings in the back they hadn’t been able to go through before a storm kicked up. Her trek with the Razor Girls the day before had been fairly successful, if one could call it that, they hadn’t found any living human slaves present. At best they had more human bodies trapped in cages and chained to buildings. Demons had uncaringly left them to die in the elements. 

If there was one thing Ophelia could count on when it came to the Tainted Coil, it was cruelty. The thought alone makes Ophelia grit her teeth. 

Her own trip with Eddie out into the desert landscape had given her a vague idea of what most of these villages would be like. The continued time during this rescue mission had only confirmed the fact demons were prone to keeping the same layout for most of their living areas. There wasn’t likely to be many surprises. She just wanted to be sure everything was thoroughly looked over before they moved on. 

The Druid Plow’s wheels handle well enough on the half upturned cobblestones and sand, loose debris is easily driven over. She knew how to handle the car at this point, even if Eddie had complained before hand about her turns being too sharp. Given his propensity for nearly driving off of cliffs, he really had no room to talk. 

She makes a turn around the large well in the middle of the town, kicking up more dirt as she picks up speed. She drives past a downed statue of what she assumed was Doviculus at some point. What was left were chunks of stained chrome and steel half buried under continually shifting sands. 

She speeds up around the next turn, angling the Druid Plow to cut between two collapsed buildings. The wheels kick up dirt and old rotted wood chunks in her wake, sending more of it out across the sand. The car weaves between what were once homes, cutting through the path she had walked with the Razor Girls the day before. This time, she didn’t have to stop to go through every house still standing. 

The old cathedral and a few other old buildings in the furthest reaches of the village was just coming into sight. She presses down on the gas pedal, hand drifting down to flick the nitro switch. That would be overkill, but- she wanted to avoid the storm to come. She could get this done fairly quickly today if she’s lucky. 

Her hand comes to rest over the switch before suddenly it was gone from under her palm entirely. The brunette realizes just as quickly she is hurtling through the air without the car under her. She flounders with a panicky sound trying to get her feet under her. 

Only to crash into the ground hard enough to make her vision go black. She loses her hat upon landing, her goggles breaking into loose glass that buries itself in her skin. The force of the landing breaks a few bones on impact, Ophelia cries out but can’t slow herself down. She flails to try and grab onto anything to stop herself but just ends up carrying loose rocks in her hands at best.

The momentum from driving carries her body further across the ground, making her skid against the dirt and land heavily on already broken bones. Skin is shredded from her body into the fabric of her clothes, her hair dampened with blood and loose rocks digging into her face. Her bare arms, and face are left red and raw from the friction. Her skin bleeds through the fabric of her shirt into the poncho. Ophelia screams, but the sound is muffled and lost in the sand as she tumbles. She scrapes up her palms in attempts to stop.

Ophelia loses consciousness entirely as she collides with a fence, breaking through the rotted metal wiring. Her back slams firmly against the support poles of the fence. Hitting the much harder metal of the support poles of the fence finally stops her momentum. She bodily sags into herself, limp and unaware. 

But not alone. 

One could count on cruelty when it came to the Tainted Coil. 

\---

Lita awakens up with a low groan, twisting in bed only to realize it was decidedly empty. Initially she doesn’t think much of it given her preference to sleep alone. 

Until she remembers _Eddie_. 

Lita sits up quickly, rapidly trying to blink aways sleep from her eyes. “Fuck!” Lita hadn’t thought he would just up and _leave_ before she managed to wake up. Yet… 

She scrambles to get dressed, muttering a few choice words under her breath as she yanks clothing from where she had left it hung the day before. The shirt she slept in ends up trampled under her feet as she yanks on her pants, followed shortly by her vest. She yanks at the cording on the front of her vest to cinch it around her chest, she zips up the front the rest of the way up quickly as she fumbles to get her boots back on. 

She grabs her weapon out of habit as she pushes past her tent flaps entrance, gaze snapping around camp trying to pick out any sign of the roadie. She wants to believe he’s gone to Kill Master, but his erratic behavior leaves her less than inclined to trust him. Lita drags a hand through her hair in annoyance. 

She catches sight of a gaggle of Razor Girls talking near the shooting range. The blonde walks over to them, calming her breathing reminding herself there isn’t a _reason_ to panic. She just needs to find Eddie is all. She comes to a stop next to the other women, glad she doesn’t have to do much to catch their attention.

“Have you seen Eddie-?” 

One of the Razor Girl’s pops her gum, wrinkling her nose. “Yeeaaah. Kinda wish I hadn’t.” That makes Lita go stiff, her teeth clicking together a little more loudly than she intends. Her mind is already running on horrible possibilities. 

“C’mon Candace, he just seemed like he was having an off day.” Another Razor Girl offers with a shrug. Candace snorts noisily at that, giving her friend a dry kind of look. “Yeah, yeah, whatever Marissa, it was still _weird_. He’s been acting weird for the past couple hours.” 

“What exactly happened?” Lita asks, somehow managing to keep her tone neutral. 

“He was running around without pants, for one.” Candace states with a roll of her eyes, “Then he started like…” She awkwardly waves a hand at loss of what to say for a good moment. “Picking stuff up and talking to himself?” 

“He wanted to improve on everything, far as I could tell.” Marissa states helpfully back. “He just seems kinda off y’know?” 

“I’ve noticed.” Lita states slowly back, wishing she had grabbed a beer, but knowing it was too late to go back now. “Do you know which direction he went?” 

Marissa gestures with a thumb in the direction past them deeper into camp. “He ran by us and-“ The group of women startle at a yowl that rings through camp. “Uh… that way.” 

Lita sucks in a slow breath, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment. “Thank you very much.” Her hand drops from her face as she follows the direction of the sound. 

Finding Eddie isn’t particularly hard. The man is still clad only in his boxers, his jeans thrown over his shoulder. He’s plucking erratically at his guitar strings, muttering to himself. A raptor elk shakes off the shock it has been given before running off with a yip. 

“Hey! Get back here!” He calls out indignant and annoyed. He stomps a foot in annoyance. “I ain’t finished with you!”

Lita comes to a stop next to the man, her expression sours as the man throws his jeans at where the animal had been. “Eddie, what are you doing?” 

Eddie doesn’t seem surprised at her presence, flipping from agitation to speaking quickly. His words call come tumbling out at once. He’s completely lost his annoyance in place of off kilter rambling. “I was trying to improve my solos, y’know! I realized I’ve just been using tabs I’ve found here. I’m a creative guy, _so_ I could one hundred percent make my own solos. If I just give it my all and figure out what the chords will do, I’m sure it’ll work.” He twirls his guitar in his grasp, his grin going wide. 

Lita rests a hand on her hip, arching a brow at Eddie. “I see.” She isn’t sure what else to even say. She opens her mouth to speak again, but is cut off by Eddie. He takes her brief pause as perfect opening to continue. 

“So far, I’ve mostly just been electrocutin’ shit, not like intentionally! Like, accidentally and shit.” He plucks at a string experimentally, “So, I’ve been hitting animals, anddd maybe a tent or two, so I’m gonna just go out into the field and practice so I avoid hurting anyone who isn’t me! Not like I can’t handle a little shock at this point, I’m all human, all strong and can take anything on!” His odd over emphasis on human is noticed, but Lita doesn’t dwell on it. She has bigger things to focus upon. 

“Eddie.” She cuts in as firmly as she can, “We’re supposed to go to Kill Master, remember?” The blonde can tell this is going to be an argument. 

The roadie rolls his eyes flapping his hand back at her dismissively. “Pshh, I’m fine!” 

“You were burned-“ 

“Burns heal just fine on their own!”

“Eddie, we need to see Kill Master-“ She tries to reach out and touch the roadie only for him to move out of her reach. He stomps further away from her down the slope leading out of camp. 

“I’m fine!” He barks back at her, his mood flipping back to agitation. He starts playing his guitar, the familiar solo makes the Druid Plow fall from the sky and hit the ground. The car rolls forward through the grass rapidly as it lands. From how hot it seems to be running, it had been in use before being called back to Bladehenge. The roadie startles back in surprise, confused as he watches his car just hurtle forward into a cluster of nearby trees. It crashes in a spectacular fashion. 

Lita opens and closes her mouth as panic strikes her. Given the speed of the car, it is more than obvious it was being driven when summoned. “Eddie! What are you doing!?” She darts forward, trying to contain the panic that wants to rise. 

“Summoning my car, the hell do you think, Lita?” He questions dryly back with an childish roll of his eyes. The blonde aggressively punches him in the chest, knocking the wind out of the roadie as she snarls at him. “You lent it to Ophelia!” 

Eddie clutches at his chest with a groan, before looking back up at her. “…Oh.” His gaze snaps to the car, “ _Oh_ fuck.” 

“What were you thinking!?” She motions at the crashed car, “She was likely driving it, Eddie!” 

Eddie goes pale, snapping his mouth shut. He stares at the car wordlessly. 

Lita is on the edge of hitting him again before changing her mind and simply racing back towards camp. She scrambles up the slope pushing past the people who heard the crash and came to gawk. “Ormagoden’s tusks!” She swears angrily, leaving Eddie where he stands to rush to the communication tent. The roadie just stares at the car wordlessly as he staggers over to it. The car is smoking from the engine, covered in loose desert sand. 

“Oh, oh nonono-“ He mutters, clawing at his hair with his hands. He reaches out to touch the side of the car, sucking in a panicky breath. “Maybe she’s wrong? She has to be.” He laughs weakly. He forces the car door open, feeling his heart hurt when he sees the walkie talkie on the passenger seat. 

“I’m supposed to-“ He chokes on his words, he sinks onto his knees. “I’m supposed to be the better one.”


	4. Can you hear me? Can you see me? Can you feel my thunder?

He snaps the walkie talkie up from the passenger seat, staggering away from the wreckage of the car into the fields surrounding Bladehenge. He can hear Lita calling behind him, yelling at Ironheade to get on the radio to the bus. 

It wasn’t his fault.

His feet carry him as tears burn at his eyes. “No, no, no!” He wheezes to himself, his grip tightening around the walkie talkie in his hands as he runs through the tall grass. 

It couldn’t be his fault.

The mid-morning sun beats down against his back. The breeze blowing by him chills his bare legs as he stumbles over an outcropping of rocks. The rough terrain bites into his bare feet and it barely registers. In his haste to run he’s forgotten the jeans Lita’s thrown at him. 

He wasn’t at fault. 

_He didn’t mean to_!

“Fuck!” He stumbles to a stop, clawing at his face with his free hand. “ _ **Fuck**_!” He draws blood as his nails dig into skin. He has to keep running, he _has_ to fix this. He is the better half, he can do this. He can fix anything. He’s a roadie, this is what he does, fix things. 

He doesn’t break them. He doesn’t kill the woman he loves- 

He stumbles over his own feet, forced to a stop as he hits the ground. He’s struggling to suck in deep breaths, just curling in on himself. He curls in on himself in the grass, clutching at his arms. 

“What the fuck did you do!?” 

His voice, his own voice but different startles the fallen man. He stares up at the demon before him, her hands are shaking around the haft of the axe. 

“None of your god damn business, you demon fuck.” He spits back out at her, finding bravado still lingering under his skin. He’s better than her, he’s the good one. He’s the untainted one. “You don’t even know what’s going on.

“It is my fucking business, you piece of shit. That smoke!? How can you not think I don’t see that!?“ She motions with her free hand angrily in the distance. He finds himself looking back, sinking further onto the ground as he catches sight of the plumes of smoke coming from the Druid Plow. “Its the druid plow, it’s my god damn car I leant to Ophelia!” 

“Fuck you!” 

She tips her head back with a roar that makes Eddie’s skin crawl before launching herself at him. 

——

The first thing she’s truly aware of is how much everything _hurts_. The throbbing of her head paired with the searing pain of other injuries she has all adds up enough to finally force the brunette completely awake. She keeps squinting out at the darkness before closing her eyes again. All Ophelia can really do is give a low groan, twisting somewhat. She expects to be on her cot, or in a healer’s bed. She expects to hear a healer grumble about her getting into some kind of tussle with a demon. Instead the silence hangs strangely heavy around her. 

The second thing she’s truly aware of is the way her wrists have been roughly bound together, the bite of leather and metal against the skin makes the brunette’s eyes snap open completely. The darkness is thick, thick enough it almost has a texture to it. Not even a single beam of light is present.

Ophelia can’t see where she is, but she can tell from the way her arms ache she’s suspended over something. She swings her legs experimentally realizing her ankles are bound as well. She can guess from the stress and weight on her wrists she’s been here a long time. Long enough she can’t quite feel her fingers. It feels like she’s stuck her hands in cold water long enough feeling has completely left skin and bone. 

She coughs roughly, realizing her mouth is coated with blood. She can taste it on her teeth and tongue. Licking her lips she finds more of it dried there on the skin. Ophelia struggles to remember what happened but finds herself too distracted by the shifting winds outside and the pressure against her wrists. 

Ophelia is trying to place if she’s still in the old demon town, or if she’s been taken somewhere else. As her mind skates across the old buildings she hadn’t checked everything comes back to her all at once. The car disappearing under her whilst she was driving and the skid across the sands. 

Before she can really dwell on it for long, she can hear the distant sound of footsteps on old wood. Ophelia jerks her head in the direction of the sound, just listening intently. She can’t tell from the gait if its human or demon just yet. Maybe when they get closer she’ll have a better idea.

Ophelia can only yelp in surprise as the room suddenly blasts into being lit, candles along the wall all coming to life around her. The brunette blinks rapidly, blinded by the sudden onslaught of light. She squeezes her eyes shut, swearing quietly to herself. The sudden light is more than enough to keep her distracted from tracking the sound. 

A door opening is as much warning as she gets someone else has joined her. 

“You’re a meddlesome little human, now aren’t you?” 

Ophelia squinted downwards, realizing it was a Battle Nun, from the looks of it a demon who had seen much better days. Her vinyl gown is utterly dirty, shredded at the hems, and the fabric is cracking in places from being worn for so long. Her headdress looks like its about to fall off at any moment. Given what she had seen of the Tainted Coil before, its almost surreal to see a Nun looking so unkempt. The coil had lost quite a bit of power without their emperor. 

“Are you alone, demon?” She throws back, glowering down at the demon before her, “Because if you are you should be afraid.” It’s all bluster in the moment, enough that Ophelia can start to figure out what she’s doing to do to get down from where she’s hanging. The new found lighting in the room has at least shown her she’s decidedly high from the ground, several feet in fact. Ophelia isn’t entirely sure just what this building was once. The raised levels from the bottom floors made of solid wood don’t offer her much information. 

The Battle Nun scoffs loudly back, walking further into the room. Ophelia picks out the fact her gait is awkward, clearly one of the heels of her boots had broken at some point and she must have put it back together wrong. “Such boldness from a child trussed up like an elk to cook! You’re lucky I’m a merciful sort.” The Battle Nun walks over to a lever on the wall, struggling to yank it down. 

If she wasn’t a demon, Ophelia might have some sympathy. It could easily be a ploy to make Ophelia hesitate. The brunette takes the struggling of the Battle Nun to start swinging her weight forward, trying to get some kind of momentum going. It will likely hurt her wrists worst in the long run, but getting on that platform should be safe. Well, safer than hanging here. 

“Stop your squirming!” Apparently her swinging hadn’t gone completely unnoticed by the Nun. Ophelia just intensifies her swinging, out of a mixture of pure spite and willful need to survive. The Nun gives an angry shriek from below, from the sounds of it she’s struggling to yank on the lever with little success. Ophelia’s gotten enough momentum the heels of her sneakers scrape across the wood as she extends herself outwards. She swears as she is swung back, just missing getting any kind of traction. On her next swing forward she tries to slam a heel against the wood to anchor herself. 

Instead her heel smashes right through the wood leaving the brunette staring at it blandly as she’s swung backward. Wood shrapnel sprinkles down on the ground making the Nun yell at her more. 

“Aetulia have mercy.” She murmured lowly, startled out of her surprise as the crank finally was pulled and she started to move in the opposite direction. Ophelia struggles against her bindings, willing to risk falling at this point. 

Ophelia’s gaze snaps upwards at the machinery hauling her across the ceiling. “Fuck.” She can hear the sound of grinding metal somewhere in the room and it is hardly encouraging or comforting in any regard. Demons aren’t known for their gentle methods of death. 

“Now you’ll pay for your insolence little human!” 

“I’ve heard similar before!” Ophelia yells downwards as she tries to figure out what _exactly_ she’s doing to do. Her mind is reeling and can’t pin down specifics. Adrenaline and the need to survive can only do _so_ much for her at this point. 

She uses her lingering momentum to spin around, trying to see where she’s headed. 

“Well, fuck,” drops out of her mouth as she makes out the vague shape of something akin to a meat grinder in the floor, spinning and whirling to life. The metal looks rusted over and dirty, well used. “Fuck.” 

A cold kind of feeling creeps along her back as she swallows. Her fingers scrabble at the leather, unable to weaken it enough to pry it off. The latch over her seems like it’ll simply release her as soon as she reaches her destination. This building had to be some kind of meat warehouse, if she’s lucky. If she isn’t this is where human slaves were mulched merely for demonic entertainment. Neither option are very good for Ophelia right now. 

The cold pools in her belly, spreading upwards and outwards. She’s suddenly so cold she can’t feel the pain of her injuries. Her breathing grows shallow as she squeezes her eyes shut. 

“Okay.” She blows out slowly, shivering bodily as the sea creeps across her body. “Okay.” She can feel Aetulia against her back, in her breath, in her bones. The cold of the black tears is all-encompassing and there is so little else she can _feel_. 

She can feel her back split open with the sea. She is the water, she is the grief. 

She is the torrent that sweeps downwards and it all becomes blessedly quiet from there. 

\---

She collides bodily with him, sending the human man tumbling down the hill. He skids against dirt and rocks from the demon’s weight alone. Eddie swears at her human self, slashing at him with claws. The two have been fighting for a little bit with no clear upper hand for either of them. Eddie is barely restraining herself from cutting her human self’s throat with her claws. 

The human man tries to angle his legs to kick her off of him, but finds himself pinned to the ground. A knee against his cut as claws wind through his hair holding his head at an awkward angle. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Her golden eyes are wild with rage. Her wings are splayed wide blocking the sky from his view. All he could see was the demon. “What did you do to her!?” 

“I didn’t do fuckin’ shit!” He bellows back up at the demon, he stammers as fingers tighten in his hair and yanks hard enough it makes him wince. “I didn’t mean-“ 

“You piece of shit! You fucker!” The demon screams at him, claws digging into the front of his shirt as she shakes him bodily. His head collides with the ground under them from Eddie’s strength alone. “What if she’s hurt, or she died!?” 

“She can’t be dead!” He protests panicky, trying to squirm out of her grip. “Ophelia has to be fine!”

“What if she isn’t?” The demon questions, wilting forward slightly as her teeth snap together. Her wings droop as her hands shake. “Ophelia, she’s all I have. Ophelia…. Ophelia.” She sinks into herself, releasing the human Eddie from her grasp to claw at her face. 

“She isn’t yours, you freak.” He snaps out, using the moment to kick her off. The demon doesn’t have time to recover, hitting the ground hard enough to make her wing twinge in pain. The man bellows at her, pouring all of his unfounded rage back at Eddie. “You- monster!” 

“You’re the monster here.” She snarls back, forcing herself up with an elbow. “You killed her! You killed her!” Eddie rises from where she’s been thrown, all anger boiling over. She could kill him, so easily, she could be the only one. He must see it in her face from the way his expression drops to something uncertain and panicked. 

“I didn’t-“ 

The sound of a razor fire bow going off nearby startles the two apart. Eddie snaps her attention to the side registering they aren’t alone anymore. 

“Okay, demon, back off.” A razor girl states slowly as she narrows her eyes. “Or I’ll shoot you dead.” 

Eddie releases a soft slow sigh, “Kelly…” The woman startles at the demon knowing her name, eyes widening as she looks to the man for some semblance of explanation. “…Lucky guess?”The human man answers weakly. 

“Remember to take it easy, okay, Kelly? You always take too many shifts.” Eddie states lowly, making the woman fluctuate between confusion and mild amusement. “Um… sure, demon… lady?” Eddie already has a feeling she won’t be able to get through to anyone at Ironheade right now. 

It doesn’t even matter as much as what happened to Ophelia. Ophelia is what matters more than anything. 

“Please, just- make sure Ophelia is okay.” She breathes out, wings drooping. “ _Please_.” 

“I…” Kelly opens and closes her mouth clearly thrown off once again. “We’re looking for her now.” 

“Hey, don’t get friendly with a-“ Eddie shoves a hand against her other self’s mouth. He looks indignant under the clawed hand against his mouth. “Please, when I see you again, have news she’s alive.” 

Kelly nods a little numbly. “Uh, sure?” 

“Thank you.” She draws her hand back glowering down at her human self. “If you killed her, you’ll regret it.” 

“Like hell I will, Eddie.” He snaps back before his mistake dawns on him. He backpedals trying to cover himself. “Uh, demon!” 

Eddie just laughs a little, shaking her head. The laugh edges on hysterical. 

“Excuse me, _what_ -“ Kelly starts, not that Eddie lingers to hear the conversation. She spreads her wings and takes off, just needing to get away from this. 

If she doesn’t, she isn’t sure what she’s going to do.

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen a _lot_ of these kinds of fics where Eddie is split into two parts and wanted to take a different take on it. Human and demons both can be cruel and kind in varying ways, so time to play with that, eyyy.


End file.
